Page 41 of The Broken Places

She’d never forgotten the way the lights buzzed that night. A dying bulb, an electricity short; she had no idea what had caused it. But she did remember the loud buzz and the tremble of light and dark that had washed over his face the last time she saw him alive. And even now, when the sadness overcame her, in the background she heard that never-ending electrical buzz.

God, they’d have been married for almost a decade now, if their plans had become reality. They’d probably have a couple of kids. They’d have gone on that honeymoon to Tahiti. She’d have used the passport that, instead, had expired in the back of her sock drawer. That version of herself felt so far away suddenly, a dream within a dream, a movie she couldn’t remember the name of. A song she still knew the melody for but could no longer sing the words.

The thought made her picture the songbird Ambrose had spoken of, the one that had appeared so vibrantly in her mind, the notes of a misty song trailing from its beak as it welcomed the dawn. The image had been so beautiful, and she’d only been told the story. What must that have been like in person?

Her finger paused over the last letter of Tanner’s name as Lennon realized she’d been thinking about Ambrose while sitting in front of Tanner’s grave. Ambrose, who hadn’t even called her since they’d slept together. Ambrose, whom she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about.

What are you doing here, Lennon?

“Anyway,” she said quickly, moving her mind from that question. “I’ve been partnered up with an FBI agent. And ... I don’t know how to describe him. It’s like he’s jaded and innocent and gruff and soft. He walks around crime scenes and fights drug-fueled psychos, but then he also tells stories about songbirds and blushes when my mom says he smells good. I’m not sure what to make of him. You know how I am. I like straightforward. I like black and white. I’m not good with shades of gray.” For whatever reason, she pictured Ambrose Mars eating that fruit cup, examining each piece of fruit as though it was a tiny marvel. And then she saw him telling the story about the man who’d been saved by the sea lion, his soft voice enthralling an entire room. The way his unusual eyes had hung on her and the way she’d felt held captive.In the end, stories are all we have.

“He’s hard to describe,” she murmured. “But I trust him—professionally, anyway. He proved that he has my back when things go south. I’m going to make sure he’s not put in that position again. I’m goingto be much more careful. I promise, Tan.” She brought her hand to the bruised eye that she’d pretty successfully—she thought—managed to cover with makeup. “This won’t happen again ...” She trailed off. As if she needed to reassure Tanner of her safety.

“What I really came here to say is that I miss you. I don’t want you to think that I don’t. No matter what. I ... if I don’t come here as much it’s not because I’ve forgotten. I never forget. I carry you with me, and I always will.”

She didn’t know what else to say to him, so instead she just sat there, watching the sun rise higher in the sky and picturing his face, forever young and beautiful.

“Good morning,” she said to Adella as she took off her coat and hung it on the back of her chair. Adella gave her a nervous glance, her gaze going over Lennon’s head right before she heard Lieutenant Byrd’s voice behind her.

“Gray, can I see you in my office?”

“Sure,” she murmured. What the hell was going on? She looked back at Adella, but she had already turned back to her computer screen.

Lennon followed Lieutenant Byrd to his office and closed the door behind her. “What’s up?” she asked.

“Do you know who he is?”

Lennon sat down slowly on the chair in front of the lieutenant’s desk. “Do I know who who is?”

“Ambrose Mars.”

She gave her head a small shake. “You told me he’s an FBI agent here to work the ‘BB’ pill case with me.”

“Well, he’s not. He’s not an FBI agent, and apparently that’s not his real name either. Ambrose Mars doesn’t exist.”

The internal alarm bells started slowly at first and then swelled into a clanging symphony. “I’m sorry,what?”

“He walked away from another scene yesterday and took a handful of evidence with him. When I called the field office in Pleasant Hill, where he supposedly came from, I discovered there’s no one there by that name.”

She felt dizzy and like she might puke. What the fuck was going on? There had been another scene yesterday? Why hadn’t anyone called her?

“He doesn’t fucking exist,” the lieutenant practically spat out.

Doesn’t exist.But he most certainly did exist. He’d been in her apartment. He’d been in her parents’ home. He’d kissed her naked breasts, for Christ’s sake.He was inside my body.God, she felt like she might be hyperventilating. He’d been lying to her? Posing as an FBI agent? She pressed her fingers to her temples, as if trying to stop her brain from misinterpreting the words the lieutenant was saying to her.

“This is a catastrophe,” Lieutenant Byrd said. “Someone infiltrated the SFPD, stole three case files and crime scene evidence, and then up and disappeared.”

“How, though?” she asked, her voice a mere croak. “I thought the call came down from the chief’s office. They ... sent him here.” Someone called. They’d said he was good with the down-and-out. And he was. He’d seemed empathetic. He’d seemed ...

“The call came from the right number, so there’s either someone working with him internally or they managed to get hold of technology to make it look like the right number. It’s being investigated with the utmost fervor.” He paused. “They’re looking at you, too, Lennon.”

“Me?” she asked, the outrage that was beginning to spark inside her clear in her voice. He’d lied to her. He’dusedher.

“He was at your house a few nights ago. After hours.”

What? How did the lieutenant know that, if it wasn’t him who’d given Ambrose her address like she’d assumed? Then she remembered the call. The bruise cream.

Adella.She’d ratted her out and made it look like Lennon was part of some scam the fake agent was running? She felt like tearing someone’s eyes out and collapsing in tears. “He came over, supposedly to checkon me after my attack.”He brought me watermelon stars and held me in his arms.Those sparks ignited into flames, anger burning away the tears that had threatened to fall moments ago.

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